Song for Abigail
by musicinmotion
Summary: Born of fire and with a song to share, the enigmatic virtuosa Abigail Prokofiev returns to her childhood home and inadvertently piques the intrigue of more than a few individuals. R
1. Settled Symphony

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**A/N:** Hey all. Welcome to the first instalment of Song for Abigail. The first chapter or two of the story will be something of a prologue, preceding the main goodness. Ha, hope you enjoy. R&R

**Disclaimer: **Despite the rumours I'm sure you've been hearing, (pfft) I don't own Beyblade. My charcters and plot however, are highly precious figments of my imagination, so I'd rather they not be tampered with. Cheers.

Chapter 1 Settled Symphony

Sun streamed in through the open front door as a woman balanced on the tips of her toes to reach the lips of her husband. They both leaned over her rotund pregnant belly to kiss each other goodbye. As their mouths met, her husband placed an affectionate hand on her pregnancy, his face plastered with a proud smile. Without looking she placed her hand over his. Reluctantly he broke away and allowed his wife to straighten his tie before he made his way down the front steps.

'Have a good day at work, Iakov,' murmured his wife, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand.

Iakov gave a short wave and was gone.

Iakov's wife closed the door and wandered into the kitchen to clear up the breakfast clutter. Iakov's absence during the day provided a tantalizing time for her to muse alone. Yes, daytime hours were made up of special, treasured moments between her and the tiny body inside of her. She would hum to it, talk to it, play to it, and at midday heave into the toilet basin because of it. The sickness she didn't mind so much, it was bearable, but the anticipation of a new voice in the house was not. Every waking hour her mind was filled of scenes with her child, cherished moments she heard parents talking about, choosing to focus on those rather than the other nightmare stories she heard about children. No, she couldn't wait for this child, but somehow, she did, each day patiently content to stroke her belly and imagine the future they would share.

Turning the tap off, Iakov's wife finished with the dishes and moved onto the laundry work, sorting through the colours and whites, filling the washing machine and collecting dried clothes. When the phone rang, it was a welcome distraction from her mundane work.

'Hello?'

'Julia!'

'Anya! How are you?'

'I'm feeling great! Amazing actually. You?'

'Yeah, really good.'

'Julia, do you mind if I come around at lunchtime? Just to catch up.'

'You didn't have to call to ask, but of course. Don't eat lunch either; I've got something in the fridge.'

'Ok, see you then, bye!'

'Bye.'

Julia placed the phone back in its cradle and returned to the kitchen. In the fridge was a big pot of pumpkin and sweet potato soup left over from last night's dinner. As Julia placed the heavy pot onto the stoved she felt something soft slide past her ankles and yelped, barely managing to keep from dropping the huge pot. Steadying the soup pot and herself, Julia turned to face the family cat, Sim, who sat on the kitchen floor, slyly flicking his tail.

'Stupid cat! Get out, Sim, out!' she growled, prodding the offending feline with her foot until it fled the house through its cat flap. Julia continued to grumble as she turned to light the gas stove and reheat the cold soup.

Returning to her previous laundry work, Julia pondered over Anya. They'd been friends since Anya and her husband Alexei Hiwatari moved into the neighbourhood, just down the road in fact, about three years ago. Julia and Anya had quickly gelled and were as thick as thieves now, sharing every intimate thought and moment with each other. Their closeness escalated to new heights when they both became pregnant one month apart last year. Now they could share and compare each detail of pregnancy with each other, as they likely would this afternoon.

The grandfather clock in the living room sounded, announcing the arrival of 11 o'clock. Julia hung the last item of clothing on the drying horse just as she felt a familiar stirring her belly, and not the good kind. Sighing at her daily nausea attacks, Julia made her way to the bathroom and waited for the waves of vomit to end. When the sickness finally ceased, she rose from her kneeling position in front of the toilet and flushed away her breakfast, or what remained of it. Quickly she washed her face and brushed her teeth before checking on the soup in the kitchen.

The soup was bubbling away merrily and smelt divine, but to Julia it looked too much like her spew to seem appealing. She turned the stove off and put some bread for dipping into the toaster just as there was a knock on the door.

Anya swept into the house before Julia could get to the door and flashed a winning smile at her friend. They embraced, awkwardly because of their protruding girths, but warmly nonetheless. Julia never failed to be astounded by her friend's beauty, quietly admiring her soft slate hair and sparkling grey eyes, as well as the delightful flush pregnancy gave her cheeks, whereas Julia's were pale from having just been sick.

'Soup!' cried Anya happily, ushering herself into the kitchen to waft the smell of Julia's cooking into her nose further. The toast popped and they were both at the table in moments, Anya enjoying her soup with relish, Julia stirring it around, pretending to eat. Her friend's loss of appetite was not lost on Anya's part.

'Still with the morning sickness?'

Julia shrugged. 'Yeah, just ten minutes ago. I'm so jealous of you; you barely got it, even at the start!'

Anya, not one to rub anything in anyone's face, nodded and, ignoring Julia's last statement asked, 'Have you talked to your doctor about it? I mean, you're five months in and I thought morning sickness only lasts the first trimester?'

Julia pushed her bowl away and leaned back into her chair. 'He said I'm one of the unlucky ones, I have it in my second term, but some poor women still have it in their third term, can you imagine?'

Anya slurped her soup and waved a finger at her. 'Don't speak too soon, Julia, you could be one of those "poor women".'

Julia stroked her belly absent-mindedly. 'Well, maybe. Is he still kicking?' she asked, pointing to Anya's six-month pregnancy.

Anya rolled her eyes and seemed to glare at her unborn child. 'ALL the time! He's one active baby and it drives me crazy at night when I'm trying to sleep. I think he just wants out.'

Julia laughed and stood to clear their plates. Her baby didn't kick nearly as much as Anya's, but when it did, her heart fluttered and her smile grew immensely. It made her dream of motherhood.

Back at the table the two of them chatted endlessly about pregnancy, their husbands, new home ideas, recent recipes, ridiculous tax prices, and Julia's favourite subject, their futures as mothers. Halfway through a discussion about wether or not tyre swings were safe, the home phone rang again.

Answering, Julia was surprised to hear Alexei, Anya's husband on the phone.

'You're looking for Anya? Yes, she's right here. Anya, it's your husband.'

Anya pushed her chair back and walked purposefully to the phone. 'Alexei? Today? I thought it was on Monday. Okay, okay, I'll be there soon. Love you too. Bye.'

Hanging up the phone, Anya shrugged her shoulders at her friend before beginning to collect her bag and keys. 'Sorry, Julia, apparently I have an ultrasound appointment today, and my husband never misses them. Thanks for the soup, it was superb! Why don't you come round next week? I want to ask you about colours for the nursery, which should be finished by now if it weren't for my darn husband!' she exclaimed, only half serious.

Julia smiled and unconsciously wrung her hands. 'Ok, sure. Bye, Anya,' she said, letting her friend out.

When she was gone, the house was empty and quiet again. Too quiet after the thunderous Anya had swept through. So, to quell the silence, Julia seated herself before the modest upright piano in the living room. She was no pianist, but the few songs she could play were merry and often made the baby inside stir with delight.

Julia set her fingers to the keys and began with a fiesty toccata, followed by a funny Irish jig and a swirling gypsy waltz. Before she knew it, Julia was pulling out old, almost forgotten music and playing that too, stretching the musical session to over a few hours. She didn't even notice when her husband came home in the middle of an easy Czerny prelude.

Iakov waited till his wife had finished before clearing his throat. She jumped up, clearly startled, but sighed when it was just Iakov. 'You're home early!'

He checked his wristwatch. 'Not really, it's 5:30.'

Julia balked. 'Time flew by today! Anya came over for lunch and- oh! I forgot to cook dinner!'

Iakov smiled. 'It's ok, we'll order some pizza. You haven't played in quite a while,' he said sidling over to wrap his arms about her.

She breathed in his scent. 'Mm, it felt good though, my fingers had been aching for it.'

He kissed her and reached for the phone, truthfully his stomach was grumbling.

Later that night they were both watching TV on the couch, pizza boxes splayed on the coffee table. Slowly they both fell into a light slumber. As they lay curled up, innocently snoring, neither Julia nor Iakov could've predicted the disaster that lay ahead which would sculpt the path of their lives forever.

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**A/N: **First chapter down. More familiar characters introduced in the next couple of chapters, thankfully. Reviews including constructive crit. welcomed.


	2. Flaming Fugue

**A/N: **Thankyou to the readers and reviewers of the first chapter. A call-out to my first fan from Holland, HeartlessLittleHamster and the wonderful marishka91, you guys own.

(Haha, just letting you know that the word Fugue in the chapter title is not pronounced _foogoo, _but rather, _fyoog_. I just didn't want people to go around saying, "Musicinmotion is naming her chapters rather oddly, I mean, what on earth is a Flaming Foogoo?" Yeah, you guys would never do that, right?)

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Beyblade, or foogoos.

Chapter 2 - Flaming Fugue

Julia stared at herself in the mirror. The last three months had been pure bliss for her as the ritual morning sickness had finally ceased, allowing her to enjoy her days as a future mother uninterrupted. But now as her eyes flicked over her distended figure, she seemed to finally realize that she would give birth to a tiny human being before a month had passed. This thought constricted her throat and made her want to weep. Nothing could surmount this blessing.

Leaving her reflection, Julia walked – no small feat now that her belly had grown to almost double the size it had been at five months, and her ankles were swollen from the weight of it and her back ached continually – downstairs from her bedroom to begin with the tiresome but highly necessary household chores. Cleaning in Spring is in no way the same as Spring cleaning, but Julia felt content to leave the monumental house clearout till after the baby was born.

After the baby was born!

She and Anya would have Spring babies, much to their delight. Anya, in fact, was due any day now, having completed the full three terms of her pregnancy. Julia was rapt with the thought of Anya's little boy growing up alongside her own child. She could've wished for nothing more.

The day progressed slowly as she cooked, cleaned, washed, and now found herself ironing in the living room, the last job of the day. Exhausted and wanting nothing more than to rest, Julia monotonously ironed her husband's shirts and her own adjusted blouses with as much enthusiasm as a checkout-chick. Finally she finished the collar of the last shirt and without hesitation, lay down unceremoniously onto the living room couch and curled around her full abdomen, promptly falling into a deep and sound sleep.

Little did she realize however, that the iron perched high atop the ironing board, was in fact still steaming, at full heat.

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Meanwhile, Iakov Prokofiev was excitedly driving home from his workplace deep in the city. Alexei had just called him saying that Anya had gone into labour and that he should collect his wife and come to the hospital straight away to witness the long awaited event. Without hesitation Iakov had made a hasty excuse to his boss and left for home. Unfortunately for him, and his wife, Iakov was stuck bumper-to-bumper in mid-day traffic. He sighed in frustration, but figured there was nothing he could do about it. Later he would wish there had been.

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At the Prokofiev home, Julia remained in her peaceful slumber, eyelids flickering with dream. So deep was her sleep in fact, that Julia didn't even twitch when Sim the family cat crept across her legs and landed lightly on the floor. He sat for a moment, staring at the sleeping woman with dark, dark emotionless feline eyes. Then, breaking the gaze, Sim turned swiftly and began to rub his head against the legs of the ironing board, trying to rid himself of the never-ending itch all cats seem to have. Above, the steaming iron wobbled dangerously, threatening to topple, just as Sim paused from his incessant scratching to snap his head up and fix his attention on something dancing about on the floor. It may have been a mouse, a leaf or even a bit of dust, but whatever it was, Sim needed instinctively to stop its beguiling movement. And so, with the selfishness only a cat can possess, Sim leapt forward at the object, unknowingly bumping the ironing board with his shoulder and sending the iron tumbling to land dully on the soft rug below.

Julia didn't even stir.

* * *

Iakov beeped his horn angrily at the motorist in front of him. 'What are you doing?!' he yelled from the safety of his car. 'You just cut me off, you idiot!' Growling, Iakov ran his fingers through his hair before checking his wristwatch. Although it seemed mean, Iakov prayed that Anya was in for a long labour, or else he and his wife would never make it on time.

Or just never make it.

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When Julia finally did awaken, it was to smoke, conflagration and intense heat. Letting out a terrified scream, Julia was horrified to find herself surrounded by a flaming, hellish inferno. Milliseconds later she registered the pain in her feet and looked down to find flames licking at her ankles from over the couch. Jumping up she swatted her feet to try and stop the burning being only mildly successful in her attempts.

Heart beating wildly, Julia searched around wide-eyed for the nearest escape route, and found it in the side door, a mere few metres away.

Tumbling forward, Julia coughed and spluttered, her eyes tearing from both panic and the smothering smoke. All she could think of was her baby, and saving it.

It was with some confusion and dismay then, when Julia found her self dropping to the ground, having unsuspectingly tripped on the fallen iron's power cord. Turning best she could in mid-air, Julia crashed to the smouldering floor making sure she landed on her side rather than her precious front. Dazed and slightly concussed, it took her a few seconds to feel the white hot pain shoot up her side and back as the fire began to consume her in its unstoppable rampage. Julia gasped but only succeeded in inhaling more smoke and ash.

The blaze burnt through her clothes and began to sear her skin as Julia, crying, finally found the strength to pull her self forward towards a small patch of the floor that seemed not to be ablaze at that moment. Her teeth gritted against the pain of her burning flesh and lungs, Julia managed to inch to the tiny haven amongst the ferocious roar of the intense firestorm and when she got there, she lay on her side, unable to move, paralysed by pain and exhaustion.

Opening eyes she didn't know she had closed, Julia, through the sweat and smoke and tears, saw the last thing she ever would: her piano, a fiery apparition of noise and music and heat.

A sob escaped her lips and Julia closed her weeping eyes.

Weeping for the baby she would never see and the music she would never hear.

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Iakov, after an age, pulled into his street and hastily sped down it, to find, with a sickening dread, fire engines and police cars and ambulances outside his house, sirens wailing. Voluminous smoke clouds puffed out of the windows of his house, and an ominous red glow could be seen.

Iakov didn't even turn his car off before sprinting towards the mayhem. He saw firemen preparing to enter his house and ran to them, tears already forming in his eyes.

'Julia! Julia! Is she in there?! Julia!' he yelled, deciding to bypass the firemen and run straight to his smouldering house. Before he could reach it though, large hands grasped his shoulders and arms, pulling him back.

'It's not safe, sir! Stay back; we're entering the building now!' yelled one of the firemen over the noise of the deafening fire.

One man held Iakov back while the others in full protective gear ran into the house. They didn't have to go far to find the lifeless woman curled around her pregnant belly, lying paces from the side-door. With no abandon they collected Julia and speedily carried her out through the grabbing flames and to the waiting ambulance.

Iakov was also herded into the ambulance as he seemed too much in shock to do anything himself. Staring down at his inert wife, Iakov felt a strong urge to shake her awake, but could do nothing but gaze upon his scalded Julia with blank, terrible eyes.

The ambulance raced away to the hospital leaving the wreck far behind. Yet, sitting on the footpath directly in front of the house firemen were now hosing, was Sim, the family cat, licking his fur in vanity.

He looked up at the damage he had done, and simply sauntered away.

Simply sauntered away.

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**A/N:** Oh my goodness! Writing this chapter was so scary...Every time I walked past my iron I'd have to check and make sure it was turned off, and I kept burning myself when I was cooking, much to my chagrin.

Reviews and constructive crit. appreciated!

Cheers.


	3. Dissonant Dance of Death

**A/N: **Thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter and added my story to their alert list. It makes me want to keep writing despite the sombre subject at the moment, so thank you :)

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Beyblade.

Chapter 3 – Dissonant Dance of Death

Iakov sat on a chair somewhere in the hospital, he wasn't sure where, cradling his head in his hands. Silent tears leaked through the cracks of his fingers unnoticed to the floor where they splashed softly in an appearing pool.

The tall side-by-side door across from where he sat separated Iakov from his pregnant wife. While unconscious when found, the paramedics told him she was still alive, but barely. The baby had to come out now, lest it die. Iakov gave his permission without hesitation for the medical team to perform the emergency c-section, which was what they were doing now.

Iakov prayed through his tears that he would be able to hold his living baby and kiss his smiling wife. A few hours before, he had been unable to accept the fact that his wife was barely clinging to life with third-degree burns encompassing most of her back and right side, now he was hoping beyond belief that she would just live.

Before they went in, the doctors assured him they would try their best to save both the baby and his wife, but the likelihood of that was, frankly, remote. Coincidentally, Anya was in the room next to Julia's, naturally birthing her son with no idea that her best friend was dying, and so close. No, Anya merely wondered between contractions where her dear friends were.

Hours went by –Iakov knew because he checked his wristwatch every minute– before a senior doctor finally emerged from the doors and removed his bloodied gloves. Iakov sprang to his feet and strode to the doctor, not ashamed of his tear stained eyes, to look imploringly at the older man. He couldn't see the man's facial expression because it was covered by a mask.

The doctor gave a weak smile though, and said, 'Mr. Prokofiev, I'd like you to meet your daughter.'

A maternity nurse appeared cradling a tiny bundle.

So tiny.

Iakov took a shaky step forward to peer over the mass of blanket and sight a perfect, miniature face. The baby had been cleaned, let to rest and now wrapped to keep it warm.

'She's four weeks premature,' said the nurse quietly, 'But as healthy as if she weren't.'

Iakov blinked. 'My daughter?' he asked tentatively. Receiving nods, he peered at the baby again. The small nose and pert, pink lips made him want to weep.

The nurse lifted the baby into Iakov's clumsy arms unexpectedly. He handled the child awkwardly, staring into her sagacious looking face with something close to awe. Shaking his head and tearing his eyes away, Iakov asked the doctor, 'My wife?'

He watched with some dismay as the nurse looked at the ground, before quickly walking back through the door. The doctor didn't move though, he simply frowned deeply.

'Mr. Prokofiev, there were many complications during the procedure, we were so fortunate to deliver such a healthy premature baby really...'

Iakov stopped him. 'Doctor, what do you mean? Is my wife alive?'

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Prokofiev. Apart from your wife's condition, there was also massive obstetrical hemorrhaging, and...There was nothing we could do, sir. Your wife passed just after we retrieved your daughter.'

Iakov didn't move or say anything for several minutes.

Silence.

Eventually he turned from the doctor and moved to sit in the chair. His wife, beautiful Julia; gone. Slipped from life to...to....

Death.

The bundle in his arms wriggled. His daughter. The baby opened her eyes and stared at her sombre father. _Why the sad face?_she seemed to say with her solemn little expression. Iakov managed a smile more like a grimace for his child.

'My tiny joy,' he murmured, stroking her soft, downy cheek with a finger. A father's bittersweet joy.

Abigail.

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Anya held her healthy eight pound baby in secure arms, a blissful smile gracing her pale lips. Childbirth had been painful, true, but she'd suffer ten times worse if she had to for the reward of this baby boy. Alexei smiled down proudly on his wife and son.

'Anya, he's beautiful.'

Anya agreed. Their son was beautiful. 'What are we calling him?' she asked, staring up at her husband, who stroked his chin thoughtfully. Before he could reply, Anya quickly warned him, 'I'm not naming him after your father!'

Alexei laughed. 'No, you're right, Voltaire just wouldn't suit. Well, what do you think?'

'James?'

A frown.

'Zackary?'

Raised eyebrow.

'Phillip?'

Alexei shook his head quickly. 'No, those won't do. Look at the boy, what do you see?'

Anya gazed down at her son. What did she see? Scrunched up eyes, pouting and trembling lip and flushed cheeks. He was about to burst out crying in loud baby howls. Anya laughed. 'Kai! That suits you just fine.'

Kai's moment of crying preparation was broken by his mother's sudden laughter, and his eyes snapped open in surprise. _What are you laughing at? _Anya and Alexei tittered at their son's expression. Yes, Kai would do.

Suddenly remembering her friend's absence, Anya asked, 'Where are Julia and Iakov, though? Didn't you call them?'

Alexei rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. 'Yeah I did, but they never came.'

Unexpectedly, the door opened and Iakov walked in.

Iakov cradling Abigail walked in.

* * *

**A/N:**Oh dear, Iakov.

R, constructive crit. welcomed.


	4. A Promising Prelude

**A/N: **Finally, the story is beginning to progress! I cannot wait to write the next chapter. But alas, you had better read this one first. Thanks again to the reviewers, **HeartlessLittleHampster **and **marishka91. **You guys, you're the best.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Beyblade

Chapter 4 - Departure in D Minor

The sky smouldered with voluminous clouds, threatening to drop their load on the small circle of people below. Iakov, now a thin and gaunt shadow of the man he used to be stood beside his daughter with a hand on her shoulder. Opposite them, the Hiwatari's stood, Anya cradling a newborn, Alexei holding the hand of a disgruntled toddler, and Kai, hands in pockets, kicking the ground, feigning a bored disposition.

'Well,' rasped Iakov, clearing his dry throat before continuing, 'We had better be off now.'

Abigail felt her eyes begin to sting. She sniffed, about to cry, when Iakov gripped her shoulder painfully, a silent warning not to embarrass him. Biting her lip, Abigail remained hushed. She didn't want to go, not in the least. Who gave a rats tail about her grandma anyway? She was just an old geezer who lived ten hours away that her father called The Dragon, but now he was insisting that they leave home to be with her, because The Dragon had cancer, and that's what family had to do when someone gets ill; go to them. They had already sold their house and everything!

Anya was already crying, and that made it hard for Abigail not to. 'We're going to miss you,' she choked out. Holding her hand out, grasping the baby in the other, she motioned for Abigail to come, and the nine-year-old did. She ran from her father's icy grip to her adopted mother and buried her face in her bosom. Alexei patted her shoulder and the toddler copied him, strongly thumping the sobbing girl on the back.

With a grimace Iakov said, 'Come on, Abigail.'

Reluctantly, Abigail stepped back, but before she turned to her father, there was one more person to farewell. Her milk-brother Kai didn't look her in the eye, but stared at the ground. She didn't know how to say goodbye, wether to hug him, cry and wail or just leave. Failing to make a proper decision, Abigail simply murmured, 'Goodbye, Kai.'

He glanced up, flashing scarlet eyes at her. His slate hair hung in his eyes as he nodded once, also unsure of how to farewell this girl who he had spent his childhood with. '...Bye.'

Iakov stepped forward and took Abigail by the hand, leading her to the car behind them. 'In you get,' he said, forcing a mild tone. Turning to the Hiwatari's, he gave a curt nod and wave. 'Goodbye, Alexei, Anya.' He didn't acknowledge the children.

Abigail looked out the window at the Hiwatari's and after quickly knuckling the tears from her eyes before her father saw, stroked Sim who was sitting beside her for comfort. The cat purred and flicked its tail. Iakov got in and started the engine before immediately pulling away from the kerb.

Anya and Alexei waved at the departing car until it was out of sight, and when it was they turned to each other to share a worried look. Kai wasn't sure what their expressions meant, but he knew that, perhaps like him, they were sad on the inside. Already displaying signs of the stoic teenager he would become, Kai refused to cry and simply balled his fists in his pockets and walked inside.

Watching their nine-year-old son stalk into the house, Anya turned to her husband and said, 'There's something not right with Iakov, dear. I've noticed for a while now, but have never said. He's...Ack, I don't know, but he doesn't treat Abigail well...'

Alexei gently pushed his toddler towards the house, indicating that he should go inside. When the little boy was gone, Alexei considered his wife's words and rubbed his chin. 'I know, Anya. Really, when he moved back into the old house,' he said, talking about the one that had burnt down and been rebuilt, 'that was when he changed the most; as though he felt the lack of Julia even more. And now, well, don't you think he's almost obsessed with turning Abigail into Julia? I mean, the piano lessons and the long lectures about how to be more like her mother are enough, but he's even had her hair styled like Julia's for goodness's sake!'

Anya sighed and moved toward the house while saying, 'He's so rough with her too. Did you see how he dragged her into the car? Iakov would _always _dote on Abigail, would always call her "his little joy". But now... Alexei, I'm worried about them. They'll be living so far away! At least while they were close we could check on them, and Abigail had Kai to play with, but now... And do you remember how terrible that old lady was? I mean, I'm sorry that she has cancer, but,' Anya shuddered, 'she was just plain mean! And now they'll be _living _with her? I couldn't think of anything worse.'

Alexei took the baby from Anya and stepped inside. In the kitchen he placed the baby on the bench and began to feed her the pumpkin mush that had been waiting for them while they farewelled the Prokofiev's. Continuing the conversation, he said to Anya, 'I do remember. She was an awful old hag; thank goodness she only visited that one time. Look, don't worry, dear, we'll call them at least once a week to check on them. Ok?'

Anya didn't look very comforted but shrugged. 'Alexei, how long will they be gone?'

'Oh, until the old lady gets better I guess, or dies...'

Anya looked dismayed. 'That could be years!'

And indeed it was. Eight years went by before Abigail's grandma The Dragon finally gave in to the cancer and died. During those eight years, Iakov and his daughter never visited their hometown and Iakov never called, but was happy to talk whenever Alexei did, which became only once every month or two come the eighth year.

Abigail was always suspiciously "out" according to Iakov whenever the Hiwatari's called, and the only contact they received was an occasional envelope containing a few pages of music Abigail had written herself. With a year or so worth of piano lessons behind him, Kai slowly played the compositions for his family, much to their delight. She sent songs called 'Waltz in A Major for Anya and Alexei', 'Sim's Theme' and 'The Talking Puppet' for the children. Besides the dozen or so other songs she sent, never was there one especially for Kai; always for his parents or siblings or no one in particular. He didn't let it get to him, but at the beginning he thought it was odd. Now though, eight years later, he hardly remembered the girl.

When The Dragon had died, the Prokofiev's didn't move back straight away like the Hiwatari's were half expecting. About five months after the death, Alexei decided to call Iakov to check up. So, after the kids were in bed, he went down to the kitchen and took the phone in his hand. Their number he knew off by heart.

The phone dialled.

'Hello?'

'Hey, Iakov.'

'Hm? Who is this?'

'Iakov, it's Alexei.'

'Oh! Oh, Alexei! Ahaha! Of course. How are you?' asked Iakov, laughing too much.

'I'm good, Iakov. How are you and Abigail going?'

'Oh I'm fine thanks. Tell me, what news do you have from my little hometown?'

Ignoring the question, Alexei asked again, more firmly, 'How's Abigail, Iakov?'

Sounding somewhat annoyed, Iakov said, 'Abigail is fine, quite fine. I believe she is giving a concert tonight at the town hall. She's become quite the pianist you know, just like her mother, just like Julia.'

'Indeed. That's good to hear.'

They chatted for about half-an-hour, discussing current news issues and the price-of-fuel-and-food-these-days. On his side of the line, Iakov checked his wristwatch and decided he should like to retire to bed now.

'Well!' he said, clearing his throat. 'It's been very nice talking to you, Alexei, old friend, but-'

'-Before you go, Iakov, I just wanted to mention that your old house is back on the market. Who knows? Now that there's nothing keeping you in that town, maybe you could move back?'

Iakov didn't reply for a few seconds, but then said, 'Is that so? Well, who would've thought...That's...quite interesting, Alexei. Thank you for letting me know.'

'Yeah, well, talk to Abigail about it at least.'

The two said goodbye, Alexei not much expecting Iakov to actually consider the offer, and Iakov wondering how long it would be until Abigail would get home.

Unexpectedly, a week later, for the first time in eight years, Iakov called the Hiwatari's.

'Anya!' he exclaimed when his friend's wife answered the phone.

'Iakov!' cried Anya in surprise.

'Anya, how are you dear? Do let your husband know that I have given his proposal much thought and have decided that it's been far too long since I've been close to Julia. Me and Abigail will be moving back into our old house, I've already called the real-estate agent and have secured the down-payment, so it's official.'

Anya was too shocked to speak. Finally getting over her astonishment, she sputtered, 'Moving back?! You and Abby? Oh I'm so excited!' Then, on a lower note, picking up on something Iakov had said, she asked, 'What do you mean "closer to Julia", Iakov?'

Iakov laughed. 'Oh, Anya, closer to her grave of course. I haven't seen it in eight years after all!'

'Oh, ok...'

How strangely Iakov talked about his deceased wife. When she got off the phone, Anya called the family over from the living room to tell them the news. Alexei couldn't believe it; he was pulling on his hair for surprise and happiness. 'It worked!' he cried. 'I do have a way with words!'

Anya shook her head at him and then turned to her eldest son, Kai. 'You remember the Prokofiev's don't you, dear?'

He shrugged. 'Sorta.' In truth, Kai only vaguely remembered the tall thin man and his little daughter, only vaguely remembered he and she playing in the back-yard and walking to school together. The only connection he had now with her was her music that flowed through his fingers. He wondered if she remembered him, but found he didn't really care.

The younger children didn't remember, but didn't really care either because they were to busy laughing at their boasting and strutting father.

Anya smiled and looked out the window, envisioning what their old friends would look like after so long. She could hardly imagine.

The Prokofiev's were coming back, and to_live_. It was almost unbelievable after so long.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and come on, it wasn't nearly as sad as the last few, right? Please review and let me know what you think.


	5. The Reunion

**A/N: **Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter and I hope you enjoy this one. It starts a little dark but becomes thankfully lighter. Cheers.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Beyblade.

Chapter 5 – The Reunion

Abigail sat on the edge of her bed surveying the few boxes that remained to be unpacked. Deciding they could wait, she crept out of her room, past her father's domain unheard and downstairs. The kitchen and living room were delightfully familiar, as was the whole of her childhood home. The entire place shouted of memories she didn't even know she'd had.

Abigail remembered back to more recently when her father, yes, just a few weeks ago, had brusquely told her they were moving back to their hometown. Abigail had bit her lip, trying to contain her joy in front of him. _Home! _Finally, after eight long years, they were going home. Home meant the Hiwatari's; meant Anya, the closest person to a mother she'd had, and Alexei, the kind, dear man who had acted as a fairytale father to her. Kai, whom she had a mottled memory of, but whom she knew had been like a brother to her.

More than anything, home meant a greater escape from the life she had in her grandma's house. The constant squeezing and pressure from Iakov to make her fit into the seemingly perfect mould her mother had left for her was almost too much to bear. She had hated it when he pushed her down into the basement where the piano had been housed and made her play for him. Only for him. 'Chopin!' he would yell, or, 'No, no more Bach, you couldn't play Bach if your life depended on it!'

Abigail loved music more than anything, loved that when her father wasn't home she could go down and escape life through hours of emotional playing. When she played for him though, she played coldly and terribly. Occasionally, after he had shouted at and abused her, he would leave in a storm, only to summon her grandma to her. The Dragon, of course, was worse. The sickly old woman with her yellow skin would stand so close to Abigail that she could smell her as she played. When, and this was often under her grandma's hawk-like eyes, Abigail stumbled over the notes, she would receive a reprimanding cuff over the ear or a slap across her head, and was expected to ignore the stinging and continue.

Eight long years it took the darn old woman to die, and in her last year or so, her mental well-being deteriorated even more, so that even around the house when Abigail was innocently reading a book, or cooking or doing homework, the old woman would yell and scream at her, often finishing the abuse with a clout or back-handed smack. If Abigail retaliated with even a word, The Dragon would break down crying and run to tell her son of his daughter's atrocities. Iakov would come immediately to Abigail, his face flushed red with anger, and shout at her about how Julia would never act in such a foul manner.

Abigail learnt the hard way not to say things like, 'I'm not my mother!' She had learnt the hard way indeed.

But now, now back at home she could see and talk to the people her father had forbid communication with. Now with the old woman gone, she could play in peace. Glancing at the top of the stairs, Abigail sidled over to her piano, which had arrived before them; a superb grand of ebony and mahogany, the best Steinway money could buy, hand-crafted and with a unique tone. Seated before it, Abigail lightly ran her fingertips across the keyboard, not making a sound. The first note she decided to play was A, A for Anya and Alexei and Abigail. As soon as the note sounded though, there were footsteps at the top of staircase.

'Abigail! The Hiwatari's are coming in less than an hour, no piano until you've finished in your room! I want that room done, Abigail!' her father yelled.

'Yes, papa,' she murmured, obediently slipping away from the piano and back upstairs to her room. Some things never change, she thought.

---

'Alexei, hurry up, get the kids together! The Prokofiev's are expecting us in less than an hour you know? Where is that son of yours? Kai! Geez, Kai, hurry up! What are you wearing? Ugh, never mind, here, take this,' fretted Anya, handing her son a four-year-old.

Kai, just arrived from upstairs, scooped up the four-year-old and carried him, much to the child's delight, to the TV and turned it on. Anya rounded on him and sputtered, 'Kai! We have to leave now! Turn the darn TV off!'

Kai though, was already comfortably seated on the lounge with the four-year-old at his feet. 'Ma, Dad's going to take forever anyway,' explained Kai darkly. He changed the channel.

Anya muttered something to the effect of, 'Bloody teenagers...', but had to agree, her husband took the cake for being the slowest man alive. Sighing, she stalked upstairs to seek out her husband herself and give him a boot up the bum if need be. To her utter dismay, she found he had locked himself into the toilet and refused to come out because "Honey, when nature calls, it calls!"

'I'll give you bloody nature,' she muttered, but found there was nothing she could possibly do to remove her husband from his favourite place in the world, so she went to gather the other two kids instead.

Her ten-year-old son and eight-year-old daughter were in their room, and when Anya swung the door open, they both stopped what they were doing to stare up at her with big, innocent puppy-dog eyes, but, much to their mother's grievance, they both stood amidst myriads of floating feathers and piles of pillow stuffing. Anya, fuming, took them by the hands and dragged them unceremoniously downstairs. 'Guys, of all the times to have a pillow-fight, honestly! Go get the feathers out of your hair and put your shoes on. Don't drop the feathers everywhere; put them in the bin for goodness sake!'

Anya stalked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to take out the delicious lumber-jack cake she had baked for their friends. It was her specialty and she knew Abigail loved it. As she peeled away the foil in order to put the cake in a tin though, Anya nearly flipped. A huge slice of the cake had been taken and eaten by...someone! Lips pursed, barely holding back a tirade, Anya marched into the living room where her four children lay sprawled over the couch and each other. They looked up at her expectantly, guiltless almost.

'OK. Which one of you ate the cake for the Prokofiev's?' she said in a dangerously even tone.

The kids looked at each other, then at her and shook their heads, mouths clamped shut. Anya tapped her foot. 'Come on, out with it, which one of you was it? No alliances, just say.'

They all looked at each other again, remaining resolute. All except for the four-year-old that is, who happily blurted with a tiny giggle, 'Daddy at the cake!'

'Daddy ate the what?' laughed Alexei, trotting down the stairs, side-glancing his wife warily. He didn't miss the twisted smirk Kai sent him.

'Alexei! Oh I could pummel you right now! Couldn't you help yourself?! You take the cake for being the slowest man alive, _and_you take the cake literally too, as if one wasn't enough. Ack, look at the time! And now I have a half eaten cake!' lamented Anya.

Alexei rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. 'Oh right...Well...Uh...Huzzah! Look, honey!' he exclaimed suddenly, a light-bulb appearing above his head. He bounded into the kitchen and collecting a knife began taking to the cake with it. 'It can be sliced into pieces so no one will ever know it's not whole!'

Despite her anger at him, Anya's face lit up. 'Genius! Oh, Alexei, you're cutting it crookedly, let me do it.'

The kids rolled their eyes at their parents. What goof-balls.

_Eventually_, the Hiwatari's were ready to leave, and all six of them walked down the road to the Prokofiev's house. Anya was tittering with excitement, but at the same time telling the younger kids to straighten their shirts and hair. She didn't even bother trying to lecture Kai, it had taxed her enough just to convince him to come, let alone wear something other than those black jeans and grey hoodie, or do something with his hair that constantly hung in his eyes.

----

Abigail was wrestling to open the last box she needed to unpack next when she heard the door-bell. She froze. _I can't answer the door! _Fortunately her father stole down the stairs and opened the door while she remained cooped up in her room, too nervous to wander down.

An eruption of voices and laughter sounded from the kitchen.

'Iakov! My goodness, look at you! I can barely recognise you!

That must be Alexei.

'It's so good to see you again, Iakov!'

Anya!

'Oh cake, how wonderful.'

Iakov.

Abigail sweat-dropped. Her father had been away from a social life for too long. Abby also heard children. Her practiced ears defined three different voices, all young. Which one is Kai? She wondered.

Curiosity moved Abigail to pad silently down the stairs and peek around the corner to spy the visitors in the kitchen. She bit her lip in joy and excitement at seeing Anya who hadn't aged at all and was flashing that winning smile of hers. Alexei had both of his hands on the shoulders of two adolescents and was talking animatedly to Iakov. He had a few more greys and wrinkles than she remembered...oh and the children! She couldn't recognise them for how much they'd grown! Abigail's eyes scanned for Kai and found him standing towards the back of the group holding a young boy's hand.

Abigail blushed.

Kai was definitely not the bony nine-year-old she had left behind. No, now...he was a man! And so tall! Abby let her eyes slip over his long form, taking in the broad shoulders, the well built abdomen that his t-shirt beneath the open hoodie revealed nicely, his narrow hips and long legs. His jaw was stronger and more defined; befitting his age, but his feature's still kept something of a boyish charm beneath the bored almost annoyed expression. The only elements of Kai that were remotely familiar to Abby were his two-toned slate hair which now hung in his also recognisable crimson eyes, and his surreally pale skin that, as she remembered Anya once saying, was 'as fair as the moon'.

Abigail retreated and sat on the stairs, her mind racing over the images in her head. Anya, Alexei, the kids, and...Kai. So changed!

In the kitchen, Anya persevered in chatting with Iakov until she could take it no longer and interjected in the middle of his sentence with, 'Where's Abigail!?'

Iakov furrowed his brow. 'Oh, right. Hang on a moment.' He moved towards the stairs but didn't climb them and simply yelled, 'Abigail! Our guests are here!'

Abigail, barely a meter away jumped and had to suppress a yelp of surprise. Quickly composing herself, she realised it would look suspicious if she popped out straight away, so she silently walked a few steps up, waited a moment or two, then walked stridently down and turned the corner into the kitchen.

Anya saw the young woman round the corner and couldn't help but gasp. How she'd grown! But before thinking or saying anything else, Anya ran forward and enveloped the girl in a huge hug. 'Oh, Abigail! My prodigal daughter!' she joked, pulling the girl away from herself and holding her at arms length to study her. 'My, you're a spitting image of Julia.'

Iakov beamed smugly.

Abigail found her tongue and quietly said, 'Anya, I've missed you.'

Alexei came forward to greet the young lady and to re-introduce the children.

Kai, standing a few metres away considered his childhood milk-sister. She was certainly not anything like how he remembered. Taller, yes, about the same height as his mother, so at least a few inches shorter than him, but not necessarily short. Her figure was now decidedly a woman's, not the shapeless nine-year-old girl he vaguely remembered. She was not as outlandish looking as him, nor as strikingly beautiful, but held a rosy allure and looked quite fetching when she gave her tiny smile and moved her rich chocolate hair out of her deep-set eyes to match.

Kai sniffed and looked away. This was going to be awkward.

'...he's ten and she has recently turned eight,' Alexei was telling Abigail. He motioned for the four-year-old to come to him and the boy left Kai and skipped forward. 'This is the newest edition, Sam. He's four, aren't you, Sam? And, of course, you know Kai.'

Abigail looked once more at the tall young man, and felt herself flushing slightly. She was suddenly glad she was naturally ruddy; perhaps it would hide her blush. Kai's eyes met hers and she found that there was little recognition in them, little of anything really, they were quite cold. Stepping forwards slightly, Abby realised she was not quite sure how to greet this boy-now-man she had left eight years ago. A hug? Joyous jubilee? Shy, whispered _hi_?

Abigail held out her hand, and regretted it the moment she did. A handshake?! Feigning confidence though, she smiled slightly and said in her well articulated voice, 'Hello, Kai. Nice to see you again.'

Kai stared hard at the girl, perhaps trying to unnerve her, perhaps trying to see into her soul, but to no avail; her polite-mask was in place and was going nowhere until he shook her hand. So, before giving it another few seconds to purposefully make her doubtful, Kai stretched out his arm and grasped her slim, long fingered hand in his.

'There we go!' gushed Anya. 'Don't worry, Abby, Kai's not the most excitable person in the world. Goodness, sometimes he won't even shake the person's darn hand! Honey,' she said, talking now to her husband, 'Do you remember the time when we visited my mum and Kai refused to let her kiss his cheek! Ha, she got so mad at us for raising such an unfriendly lad. '

Abigail bit her lip, slightly embarrassed by Anya's blatancy, and in front of her own son! Kai though, merely raised his left eyebrow and leaned against the wall as though used to his mothers rants about how anti-social he was.

Anya, ceasing her mindless chatter, realised Iakov and Abigail had hardly had time to say two words while she had prattled uselessly on. Taking Abby by the hand she said, 'Eight years is such a long time, we have so much to catch up on! Come into the living room and tell me all about it.'

'That sounds great, but,' said Abby gently, a contrast to Anya's bold and daring voice, 'first I'll get you some drinks and-'

'-Nonsense!' butted in Iakov with a smile that looked fake on his face. 'Abigail you go talk to the Hiwatari's and I'll get the refreshments. No "buts", go!'

So, obediently, the seven of them moved away from the kitchen to sit on the lounge in the open living room while Iakov fretted over the kettle and tried to find a serving plate for the Nice Cake.

Anya, sitting next to Abigail looked at the girl expectantly. 'So, what was it like living with your grandma for eight years?' she asked, fortunately not portraying in her tone that she could imagine exactly how it would've been.

'Well,' began Abby, glancing at her father before continuing, 'It was fine. My grandma was good to let us stay with her, and she fared fine up until the last couple of years when her health, deteriorated.' Abigail sounded stiff and as though she was choosing her words carefully. Scared to talk further about this subject, Abby changed it to an easier one. 'Those times were, sad, but fortunately I went to a fine school with good friends.'

Anya smiled. 'That's wonderful. What was the school called, I might know it?'

'Curringham's All Girl's College. Do you know it?'

'No I haven't, but geez, an all girl's school? Iakov,' she said seriously as the man arrived with a tray of drinks and cake, 'what were you thinking?'

'Why what do you mean?' he asked tightly, settling into a chair. 'It was a private school, the best in the area, and I've always believed private schools have a better and more efficient curriculum.'

'Rubbish,' stated Anya.

Abigail was shocked at the woman's blatant frankness. If she had talked to her father that way, she could only imagine what kind of punishment she'd receive.

Continuing, the older woman said, 'The school Kai goes to is a public high school and has a perfectly sound curriculum and a fantastic staff. Kai has perfectly wonderful friends too, don't you, Kai?'

Abigail thought she heard the stoic teen mumble something to the effect of, 'Intolerable is more like it.'

'So,' said Anya, 'Abigail will surely go to Kai's school, right, Iakov?'

'Honey,' Alexei implored, 'Don't be so forceful, it's their choice...'

Abigail though was staring at her father, eagerly awaiting his answer.

'Well,' he began, 'Not that I doubt your opinion, Anya, but I don't want to risk any of the hazards that recalcitrant teenagers often lay before other students at public schools...'

'Hazards? What hazards? Do you mean bullying? Rough behaviour perhaps? The school's reputation has not been tarnished by such terms, Iakov, and likely won't be for some time. Besides, Abigail is a big girl, she can take care of herself, and if need be, there'll always be Kai to protect her.'

This made Abby blush. She appreciated Anya standing up to her father for her, but did she have to say that?

Iakov sniffed and turned his attention for the first time to the tall young man sitting in the arm-chair opposite his. 'Indeed...Well, Abigail, what do you think? You're private school was perfectly fine and I don't see why you shouldn't continue on in a school of the same calibre, but perhaps you'd like to attend Kai's mixed public school?' Iakov raised a brow at his daughter.

Abby knew her father wanted her to attend a private school, his very thoughts oozed out of his words, but she couldn't pass up this opportunity. In truth she'd hated the girl's school, and all her "friends" were bitchy snobs.

'Well,' she said calmly, 'It would certainly be a new and remarkable experience, don't you think, Papa?'

Before her Iakov could reply, Anya burst in with, 'There! It's decided. How exciting! Oh, Abigail you'll love the school, it has...' Anya continued to rattle on about how great the school was.

Iakov silently seethed.

The Hiwatari's stayed for a further hour or two, Anya doing most of the talking, but at least trying to pick the brains of the reserved Prokofiev's. Abigail for her part was content merely to be in their presence again. She could feel the life-style change already.

When the Hiwatari's eventually left with promises from Anya to return the next day, Abigail was smiling unreservedly. Iakov glowered at his daughter. 'Practice your piano,' he muttered before shuffling upstairs to his business.

Abby waved from the kitchen window to her departing friends a few seconds more before walking away and into the living room to sit at her piano. Still smiling, she took to the keys with joyful rag-time song to keep her spirits buoyed.

Happiness: something she hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

**A/N: **This turned out a little longer than I expected...Oh well. Let me know what you thought of it.

M-in-M


	6. Wonderful Stanza

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait. I'm back at school from holidays, so updates won't be as frequent. Many Thanks to those who've been following the story, let me know if you're enjoying it, please.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Beyblade.

* * *

Wonderful Stanza

Sitting at the back of the large classroom surrounded by boys and girls her own age, Abigail found that she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. It was hard to concentrate on what the teacher was saying while her mind was buzzing with thoughts and joys and worries.

The day after the Hiwatari's first visited, Anya, true to her word, had turned up on their doorstep with cookies this time, and speak of enrolling Abby into Kai's school that very day. Iakov was baffled, and Anya took the opportunity to drag them into her car and down to the school so they could meet the principal and hear from him how great the school was and how he'd be happy to have Abigail as a student and did he mention the school had an excellent music department?

Iakov had barely had time to argue before the relevant paperwork was shoved into his hands and filled out, and the next thing he knew, his daughter would be going to a public school next Monday. Abigail had been in a daze the whole time, dazzled by the wonderful and independent Anya, so much so that even she was surprised when, come Monday, she heard a horn sound outside her house indicating that Anya had come to pick her up and take her and Kai to school.

School is where she was now, with a pen in her hand and a brain full of thoughts. The other students had been really nice to her, greeting her and thumping her on the back and saying, 'Oh, you know, Kai?', but before she could return the greetings or reply to their questions, the teacher had swooped in, barely acknowledging the new girl before starting the lesson.

Abigail knew her father was not pleased by the situation, and had told her so by means of a long-winded lecture about how he was her father, and she must obey him, and she had been too forceful, and if something happened to her at school he was certainly not to blame, and how overall she had acted in a very un-Julia-like manner, which displeased him to no end.

Yet sitting there, staring at the back of Kai's head, Abigail concluded that she didn't much care what her father thought, for there was no other place she would rather be than in a place of learning and surrounded by people who weren't over forty, excluding the teacher.

When the bell for the mid-day break finally sounded on her first day at a public and new school, Abigail found that she didn't quite know where to go. So, as Kai rose and turned to look at her, she sent him an imploring and slightly panicked look. He sniffed and indicated with a jerk of his head that she should follow him.

After they had been to their lockers, Kai led Abby outside and away from the main school buildings to a small courtyard with some benches and trees. Kai leaned against one of the trees and slid down so that he was sitting on the ground. He didn't talk to or look at her.

Abigail stood in front of him, feeling and looking awkward. 'Uh...' she began, 'is this where you usually come at recess?'

He looked at her with a pure bored expression which made her feel like an idiot for even speaking. 'Sit down, they'll be here soon.'

Abigail sat on a nearby bench and asked, 'Who'll be here soon?'

He blew at the hair in his eyes only to have it fall back into its original place. 'Company.'

Not a second after he said the word, Abigail heard a loud voice yell, 'Kai-man! Who's the chick?'

Looking towards the voice, Abigail saw a red-headed boy approaching with a grin on his face and a coffee in hand. He wore grey jeans, a tight navy sweater over a white shirt, a black school-boy tie and a long scarf which hung over his shoulders. Abby had to admit, he looked rather cute in a fresh, young student kind of way.

Abigail rose to greet the boy whom offered his hand to her and bowed slightly. 'How do you do, m'lady. The name's Tala, might I ask yours?'

Abigail looked a bit uncomfortable with his gentlemanly ways, but took his hand and said, 'Abigail. Nice to meet you, Tala.'

Tala grinned and sat on a bench, patting the space beside him indicating that she should sit. She did.

'You're such a douche, Tala,' muttered Kai, looking at the red-head with lazy half-open eyes.

Tala poked his tongue out. 'Just because I'm not an anti-social poo like you, Kai, don't mean you have to get all jealous.'

Kai rolled his eyes.

Tala ignored him and turned to the female specimen beside him. 'Abigail, if there's one thing you must know about Kai it's that he must be ignored and paid no heed at every opportunity.'

Abby looked unsure. 'Oh...?'

'Yes, but enough about Kai, tell me about you! Where are you from? Why are you here? And with Kai too, of all the people!'

Abigail opened her mouth to answer at least one of his questions when she was interrupted by more voices.

'Hellooo! We have arrived!'

Abigail looked towards the sound of the voice for a second time and found its owner was not alone, but surrounded by a few more people.

Tala jumped up and greeted the group before leading them to Abigail. 'Introductions first, talk later!' he announced. Turning to the group he said, 'Everyone, this is Abigail, Kai's friend.' Turning to Abigail, 'Abigail, this is Everyone.'

Abigail stood and smiled at the group, before each one of them stepped forward and introduced themselves personally.

'Hey!' said a cheery girl with brilliantly purple hair and the straightest, whitest teeth you've ever seen. 'Abigail, that's a nice name. I'm Nika.'

'Hi, Nika, and thankyou.'

A solemn girl of short stature appeared in Nika's wake and gave Abby a tiny wave. 'Hey, Abigail,' she said in a voice barely above a whisper, 'Suzume, my name.'

Abigail nodded to her and Suzume scurried away to sit on a bench.

Lastly, a boy stepped in front of Abby and offered her his hand. He had silky black hair and eyes of liquid amber. 'Hi, Abigail, my name's Rei. Nice to meet you.'

Abigail took his lean hand and found herself momentarily lost in his velvety gaze. He smiled at her and Abby thought her heart would melt. 'Uh, hi, Rei. Nice to meet you too.'

Tala broke the moment by shoving Rei aside and leading Abby back to her bench where, before making sure she was comfortably seated, sat down himself beside her. 'Now, before you all rudely interrupted, I was just asking Abigail how she came to be at our school and with Kai as a guide, at that.'

Everybody, after rolling their eyes at Tala, peered curiously at this new, quiet student with flushed cheeks and inky dark eyes.

'Do tell,' said Nika, leaning in. 'I mean it's not everyday Kai brings a new person to our group,' she said, jerking her thumb in Kai's direction. 'Then again it's not everyday Kai brings _anything_ to our group, right, Kai? So anti-social...'

Kai merely yawned and closed his eyes.

Abigail looked at the eager eyes before her and, after a moment's hesitation, realising her father wasn't there to breathe down her back, began to tell them about how she had known Kai growing up, and how she'd been gone eight years, and now that she was back, Kai's mother had persuaded her to come to Kai's school.

At the mention of Anya, everybody in the group chortled and rolled their eyes. Abby eyed them quizzically. Tala explained.

'Kai's mother, as you are probably already well aware, is nothing like her dear son, and we've all felt her...let's not call it bossiness for Kai's sake...'

Kai glared at him.

'...we've all felt her influence and methods of persuasion in some form or another.'

Abigail raised her eyebrow.

Ray explained further. 'Like that time she came to the school and rallied everyone to throw a school fete, which we _never _do, by the way, to raise money for a charity.'

Abigail frowned, 'That doesn't seem too bad...'

Nika raised her hand as if to stop Abby in her tracks. 'Ray mentioned one of the better experiences, let _me _explain. One time she came to my house and persuaded my mother to make me join the local _chess club_ because apparently with the dwindling number of members it would have to be dissolved. Because I really _care _about a bloody chess club and all! I _hate _chess!'

'The chess club wasn't that bad...' murmured Suzume, running her fingers through her navy coloured hair.

Nika prodded the girl in the side. 'There you go again, defending the stupid chess club, just because you're a nerd and own at chess.'

'Nika...'protested Suzume weakly.

Abigail was amused by the bantering.

Tala shushed the girls and turned to Abigail. 'My dear, listen not to those fools. Anya once bought me, Ray and Kai WHAM! T-shirts and made us wear them to a fund-raising concert where we were surrounded by old fogies singing along to dodgy Air Supply and Backstreet Boy impersonators. _Impersonators. _That people would impersonate such distasteful bands is bad enough...but that we were forced to _listen _and _watch _is far, far worse....'

Rei laughed. 'Ha! I remember that...Terrible...'

Kai groaned. 'Ok, we get it; my mum's a nutter...'

Nika grinned. 'Well, at least whenever she is embarrassing it's for a good cause, not that the chess club is doing any good in the world or anything...'

Suzume furrowed her brow. 'It's not _that _bad, Nika,' she said in a soft, low voice. Nika merely rolled her eyes at the quiet-speaker and turned back to the more interesting Abigail.

'So, Abby, do you mind if I call you that? Of course you don't. Um...what was I going to say? Oh right. I just don't get why Anya was adamant on you coming _here_. I mean, there are a million other, better schools around, not that ours is scummy or anything, it's just an average school, but I just would've thought that going to a private school would be the first choice for you, seeing as you went to Curringham's, which, as I've heard, is amazing!'

Abigail wondered if Nika was annoyed that Anya had suggested Abby come to her school.

'Geez, Nika!' exclaimed Tala. 'You make it sound as though you wish Abby had never come! Abby is gorgeous and well-spoken and a lady, not like you, you loud-mouthed sod!'

Abigail's eyes opened wide.

'Tala! That's not what I meant at all! I'm just saying, wouldn't a private school-er want the best school in the area? Because this really isn't it,' stated Nika matter-of-factly.

Abby coughed. _They think I'm a snob because I've been to a private-school._ 'Well, actually,' she said slowly, calculating her words as she always did, 'I didn't really need convincing to come here. Curringham's was awful; really, they were all quite prissy and mean. When Anya told me about this school, and how down-to-earth it was, what a great music department it had, and how wonderful Kai's friends were, I was sold. It was my father who needed convincing...he's a bit...set in his ways.'

Nika beamed. 'We are quite wonderful aren't we?!'

Suzume glowered at her friend. 'Nika...'

Nika rolled her eyes. 'Oh shush, Suzume! You're such a wet-blanket sometimes, like Kai!'

Tala sipped his coffee before reprimanding her. 'Nika, Suzume is not a wet-blanket, unlike Kai, and does not need to "shush"; she barely ever says more than two words as it is.'

By this time Suzume was blushing furiously and glaring at her friends to stop talking about her. Abigail, feeling sorry for the girl, decided to avert the attention away from Suzume by posing a question to the group.

'So, I heard you guys have a good music department, right?'

Rei answered as though he were the personal music department promoter, 'We sure do. There are half-a-dozen private sound-proof practice rooms, an orchestra and the teachers are competent. Why, are you doing music?'

Abby nodded. 'Yeah. Do you?'

'Definitely. I'm a violinist. What do you play?'

'Piano.'

'Any good?' asked Nika boldly.

Tala glared at the purple haired girl. 'Of course she's good! Look at her hands, they've been beautifully sculpted by a life-time of expert playing, can you not see that?!'

Abigail looked at her hands before tucking them under her sleeves.

Nika reached over and flicked Tala in the head. 'You're always mean to me, Tala. How am I supposed to know what a pianist's hands look like? Do I play piano? No.'

Abby glanced at Tala. 'You play?'

Tala grinned. 'Kai-man and I took lessons for about a year. Good fun wasn't it, Kai?'

Kai had his eyes closed and ignored the red-head completely.

The bell sounded.

Rei stood first and said to Abigail, 'We have music now, come, I'll show you where the department is.'

Abby stood to follow Rei and Suzume quickly jumped up to do the same. 'Are you in music too?' asked Abigail.

The girl nodded and scurried after Rei. The three left a quarrelling Tala and Nika and a silent Kai behind to head to class.

Abigail's first Music Class.

* * *

**A/N: **I've just re-posted an old story of mine, so if you're looking for something hilariously sarcastic to read, you should definitely check out The Dump, The Worm and The Nutcase. Get past the 1st chapter, and let the laughs roll. It's a fair bit lighter than this fic and probably easier to read. You can get to it via my profile. Ta's much.


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